Keep Calm and Become a Regular
One of the defining characteristics of modern capitalism was the speed with which it destroyed the remnants of its predecessors, captured more beautifully by Karl Marx than anyone else: “All that is solid melts into air.” Indeed, capitalism ushered in rapid and profound change, allowing some to thrive in an unprecedented manner while wreaking unspeakable havoc on countless others. Believe it or not, late capitalism makes its predecessor look like a tame tortoise on a stroll.
Metropolises such as London, Istanbul, New York, Paris, Berlin, Beijing, and Los Angeles, on the one hand, play a major role in driving this change. These are cities where networks of communications crisscross, where financial capital concentrates, and where life demands the residents to be quicker, more efficient, and perhaps even more ruthless to be successful – or, dare we say, to deserve to live in such a city in the first place.
Walter Benjamin, one of the many names who accompanied us on this journey argued that consumer capitalism and its speed and need for destruction had brought the flaneur’s demise. Meyhane, with its relaxed and welcoming atmosphere, emphasis on the shared enjoyment of life, and rituals that withstand the sands of time offers this quintessentially urban figure some breathing space.
These cities, or hubs, are also where the most apparent physical signs of the relentless transformation can be observed. Take London or Istanbul. Today both cities resemble vast construction zones where buildings with character – red brick houses or low rises with unique designs – are replaced with soulless glass and steel structures. Cities are going through official or unofficial regeneration phases whereby architectural monstrosities slowly erode whatever is left of the urban culture that defined these metropolises for centuries if not millennia.
The said wave of change is not confined to the material realm of course. Better put, the changes in the physical complexion of the cities impact (and concurrently reflect) changes in urban lifestyles and cultures. Much has been written on this issue; how the lower classes have been literally and figuratively pushed out of metropolises around the globe, how a faster life is transforming the way urbanites interact with one another (or, almost bringing their interactions to a point of elimination), and how chains are taking over the service industry, harbingering the looming end of local establishments with character (what has aptly been called starbucksization).
However, as Michel Foucault once said, wherever there is power there is resistance. And, we witness this every day: Chain bars continue to crop up everywhere but the local pubs do not disappear. Neither do the meyhanes, bistrot, bodegas, cantinas, trattorias, or kneipes. Indeed, Parisian bistrot owners and bodega owners from Barcelona are close to securing EU protection for their establishments, cantinas have had a revival in Mexico City, and to the delight of regulars, neighborhood meyhanes that had all but disappeared have reappeared in Istanbul. The reason for the perseverance of the “old” is simple: attachment to a place that is not one’s home is a fundamental need of the social beings that we are.
A hostile world from which we seek refuge
So, what are the effects of this ever-changing world on us?
The first is a feeling of wistfulness towards the familiar that is disappearing. As that which we cherish, know well, and hold dear becomes rarer, our yearning for it becomes stronger. As a result, we seek more of it.
“That is longing: to dwell in the flux of things, to have no home in the present.”
Rainer Maria Rilke
The second is a feeling of alienation. We no longer see our relationship with these cities as co-constitutive; rather, these urban spaces that go through this relentless change become mere containers for us. The soullessness and lack of character that define these cities of flux give rise to the belief that even if we urbanites did not exist, the city itself would – churning residents at unprecedented rates.
The third is a feeling of uncertainty. This ever-accelerating change overwhelms us with a sense of fragility and contingency of human existence. The COVID pandemic no doubt exacerbated this feeling of incertitude but the disappearance of the familiar at a dizzying pace is one of the root causes of the often-incapacitating angst we experience.
Do you know when I come into this pub, I don’t even have to order? They automatically issue a pint of wallop. And if I come in with someone else I point at them and nod twice if it’s bitter.
John Braine, Room at the Top
Last but not least is a sense of placelessness and lack of anchor. We no longer feel we belong and we no longer feel we truly share. It’s no wonder many are seeking to fill this void with online communities or social media platforms. And, although they are successful to an extent, as humans we continue to feel the need, or even the urge to form an attachment to physical space.
Being completely at home – that is unreflectively secure and comfortable in a particular locality, a place that we return to, a place of familiarity in a strange world.
Maria Vittoria Giuliani
Perhaps this is why, today, more than ever, becoming a regular has become an existential need.
Having a place, a refuge, where you are not merely an avatar or a number; a place you need but also feel that needs you; a place that offers you the familiar; a place that makes you feel safe; a place that has character; a place where you become yourself is nothing short of a necessity in today’s world.
And this is what London’s first Istanbul meyhane promises you – a refuge where you are always welcome.